I haven’t been slacking. I’ve actually been writing. I completed book one. It’s currently being read and then will need to be proof read. To my overwhelming surprise I was able to jump right in to knock out some ideas for book 2. Only I didn’t stop. I’m not 42k words in. It’s blocky and jumps around, but you can’t expect more than that for outlining.
Tonight though… I just can’t keep my eyes open. I can either sit here and stare at the screen with my eyes propped open, or type with them closed. Don’t get me wrong. that’s actually what I’m doing right this moment, but thinking creatively when you’re half asleep doesn’t work to well.
I spent about an hour today sweating in front of the television. I’ve been working out to Just Dance for the kinect. So far I have lost 1 dress size, meaning I can finally get int some decent jeans. Bonus, I have actually FOUND some decent jeans that I actually like. SCORE!
So tonight… I’m going to bed early. I hate it. I really do. Because I have a busy weekend ahead of me. A birthday party, night out for burlesque, nieces christening, and then D&D… I believe my writing streak is over which means I should stay up as long as I possibly can tonight… but I can tell that I’m already rambling. Scary things happen to my books when I ramblewrite… it’s probably better this way.
Fingers crossed, you never know I might be able to pick back up after the weekend.
Writing is an addiction. You’re pulling together words to create a world that a few seconds ago never existed. It turns you into a god. You control the existence of these characters and their universe. You get addicted to the power. Time ticks by without consequence.
The 9-5 job that helps supply the addiction becomes more difficult to sit through. You chomp at the bit, watching the clock… just waiting for your next fix.
You start to question why you do anything beyond writing. Hobbies lose their fun, friends and family fall to the shadows. You’re working on a time limit. You can only write when the drive is present and if you squander your time you’re left in hopeless despair once the drive is gone. The things you could have done with that drive if only they’d left you alone.
Writing turns me into a horrible person; selfish and single minded. I have to forcibly stop myself from thinking “why am I wasting my time going out, cleaning, preparing a wedding… I should count myself lucky to have someone that understands my hermitage. But as I retreat to rule the universe of the written word, he becomes still, complacent, and depressed. I don’t feel pity for him – or anyone for that matter.
I pity the people I write for. Left at my mercy, their lives hang in the balance of my mood that day. I do not grant them peace, for I BECOME the universe and shape it as the universe I see around me. There is pain, and loss, and hope, and disappointment… but there is also love, and tenderness. I grant them a moment of calm before the storm picks up again.
I attended a friend’s bridal shower today. It was nice, and fun, and I found myself sitting in a room full of someone else’s family. But I think what did it was seeing the relationship between her and her mother and soon to be mother. I’m not going to be able to share this even with my mom. We were at odds with my first wedding (everyone in my family was against it). At the time we figured it wasn’t even worth it to put money into making it an event. She was able to be at my sister’s two weddings, but I’ll never be able to have her at my side for mine. Add one more item to my pile of regrets.
I thought I found a seamstress, but every time I send her an idea she shoots it down. She provides me with a list of concerns and reasons why it won’t work or why I shouldn’t do it. At this point I’m downright irritated. There is a sewing machine sitting in my office – looks like it’s high time I learn to use it. I think it’s going to be the only way I get the dress I really want.
I had it. I had conversations, details, answers… and then life happened. Work got crazy so I couldn’t stay focused, we went running around both days immediately after work so I couldn’t write it down and now 56 hours later… I can’t remember it. It’s the first chance I had to sit down since I stumbled across that piece – and it’s gone now. I’m sitting here staring at the computer cursing myself for forgetting my voice recorder. A breakthrough like that is worth a few minutes of people thinking you’re insane.
I’ll figure it back out, but I can feel the gears in my head grinding to a slow crawl. Stress, frustration, and of course fatigue drag me back to where I was. Those couple of days can’t be ALL I had in me. There’s still too much to do. I can’t hit another slump like before.
My day was loaded to the teeth today. March 8th snuck up on me so fast I didn’t even realize that it was this weekend. I had to run out for a present for tomorrow. We then went to pick strawberries. We’re making wine and some preserves. There are so many strawberries in this house right now it’s unreal. I even cooked some into a cobbler. I did have plans fell later that I was counting on helping with the writing. De-stress and start over fresh. But they fell through. The universe likes to point and laugh at me sometimes.
So I’m going to put my headphones in and see if I can push through a bit tonight. If not, then I’m going to bed.
I’m not sure what I thought would happen by writing again. Perhaps that the world would start turning once more and life would continue…
But life never halted. We are forever changed. And the universe still has it out for me. And some days just suck.
I’ve been so easily frustrated lately. If I wad a control freak before, I don’t know what I could be considered now. Why…. did you do it that way?!
It is definitely time for a change. In fact, it’s well beyond that time.
It’s right there… right at the edge. I just can’t jumpstart my brain to get the pieces to go together. They look like they should line up, but they just won’t. There’s not many pieces left, it has to be one of these. If I can tie these 3 cases together and solve it, then I have a great side plot that should just about finish it off. It’s there… I’ll find it. I just need the right inspiration.
I remember being small… well, smaller… and constantly getting in trouble. I understand it now. It was never that I was a bad kid, it was that my mom expected more out of me. I find myself doing and saying many of the same things to my son. It amazes me that no matter how adamant I was about doing things differently, I am so very similar. As I grew and looked back, I realized she had it right. I don’t know if I ever told her how right she was, or that I finally figured it out.